


evolutionary theory

by bbuckyy



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M, THATS WHY, Trans Duck Newton, also i just kinda... forgot that agent stern existed, as of right now all relationships are background or yet to happen, duck was never mundane, i'm bad at writing summaries lol, its not really relevant to the fic but any duck i write is trans, so if you're wondering why he doesn't show up, takes place between tree and countenance arcs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22156714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbuckyy/pseuds/bbuckyy
Summary: when duck is bitten by a werewolf abomination, he has to come to terms with what that means for his life as he knows it(idea inspired by "the change: a study on ducks and wolves" by tikkikwami and "once bitten..." by tritonehorror)
Relationships: Dani/Aubrey Little, Indrid Cold/Duck Newton
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	1. one

Duck couldn’t remember much about what had happened. Just a rogue werewolf crouched in the middle of the Lodge, hackles raised, black sludge dripping from its jaws, then a sudden rush of motion and noise, and a sharp, ripping pain in his hip.

When he woke up, he had the worst hangover of his _life_ (which wasn’t saying much, considering he’d never actually had a hangover before). The sharp, cold fluorescence of the LED lights above him stabbed into his retinas, and he could hear the once soft, now deafening hum of electricity pounding in his ears. He looked around him, the cold metal table beneath him seeping all the heat from his body, and finally realized he was in the infirmary below Amnesty Lodge. He started to sit up, and remembered the conflict before he passed out as his left hip ignited in pain, letting out an undignified yelp as he dropped his head back down on the solid table upon which he rested.

In the adjacent room, Duck heard a distant “ _Shit!_ ” and rubbed his temples as the infirmary door swung open with a piercing squeak.

“Hey there, cowboy,” he could tell Mama’s voice was soft, but it still rang through his eardrums with astounding intensity, “how you feelin’?”

“Like shit.” He propped himself up on his elbows as he squinted away from the harsh LEDs. “You mind, uh, catchin’ me up on why I’m inpatient?”

“Well, Duck, I’d tell you to sit down, but you seem to already got that covered. How much do you remember from the last 36 hours?” Mama dropped herself onto a nearby stool.

“Jesus, uh, the last thing I remember is a ton’a noise, and people runnin’ around, and the, uh…” Duck swallowed, hard, “the were- fuck…”

“Yeah, that’s about how we’re all feelin’, too.”

“Are you shittin’ me right now? Was I bit by a fuckin’- a, a werewo…” Duck couldn’t force the word out as his voice started to shake. He fully sat himself up on the table, ignoring the throbbing pain beneath his bandage.

“I’m afraid you were, hon. Now this wasn’t no normal werewolf, not the kind we keep in our company here at the Lodge. This was definitely the byproduct of an abomination, but we’re not quite sure what the whole shebang is yet. Regular werewolves don’t work like how they do in the movies, they can’t, y’know… turn no one. This one was different, though, and it got some of its juice straight into your bloodstream. Now, we’ve run what tests we can, gotten some advice from the werewolves stayin’ at the Lodge, and it seems like… well, it seems like this is happenin’, whether we like it or not.”

Duck felt the blood drain from his face. “Mama, I…” he couldn’t force the words out from behind the lump that was rapidly forming in his throat, “I can’t be a… I can’t, I…”

“Oh, honey, you come here.” Mama got up from her stool and wrapped Duck in her arms as he started to heave, rubbing circles into his back. “We’re tryin’ to figure out a way to reverse this all, but in the meantime, we all- and I mean _we_ , you and all us at the Lodge- we gotta make sure we got the tools to deal with this one step at a time. This is gonna be tough, but we all got you.”

Mama and Duck stayed close like that for almost another 45 minutes, until Duck had stopped crying and instead just breathed into Mama’s duster. He slowly pulled his head out of her shoulder and looked at his hands. “Mama, I- could I get some time? I mean, alone?”

“You bet, honey. I’ll be just outside this door if you need anything.” She rubbed his shoulder a couple more times before exiting the infirmary, closing the squeaky door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mama is the ultimate mother figure, not because of her name, but because i have MOMMY ISSUES


	2. two

Duck made his way to the lobby of Amnesty Lodge within the next few hours, taking advantage of the walker Mama had left him next to the infirmary operating table. As he exited the cellar, he couldn’t tell exactly what time it was, but judging by the dark sky above, he’d guess somewhere in the early morning. He approached the concierge desk and saw a note scribbled in Barclay’s handwriting waiting for him on top of a small stack of towels.

_Duck- make yourself at home in room 106, hang in there, little man. -Barclay_

To the right of the stack of towels was a bronze room key atop a small roll of ace bandages. Another note was fastened to the bandages, this one in Mama’s barely-legible chicken scratch.

_You’re a big boy, Duck, you can change your own damn bandages. You don’t want to get an infection on top of everything else. Chin up, cowboy._

Duck grabbed the towels, bandages, and key and made his way to his room, sandwiched right between Jake’s and Moira’s, if memory served.

He stared into the foggy mirror following his steaming hot shower, fresh bandages wrapped around his thigh and hip. Perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him, perhaps it had just grown out in the day and a half he was unconscious, but he could swear his beard seemed thicker.

The next few days were spent mostly in isolation. Duck stayed in his room, not for shame or embarrassment, but guilt over being such a burden to the Lodge and his friends. Mama or Barclay would bring meals to his door with a gentle knock and a “ _‘s’all good, the coast is clear_ ” for Duck to come out and take the plate. His appearance was yet to change to drastically, though he was definitely different. He had grown from his stout 5’6” to what he guessed was probably around 6’4”, though he didn’t exactly have a yardstick with him. While he had always been a pretty hairy guy, the hair covering his body seemed to thicken and just barely lengthen. His belly hadn’t completely disappeared, it just became a little bit less severe with the added height and muscle mass. That was the other thing- his body burned. His hip had stopped being a problem after a day or two, but he was constantly distracting himself from violent growing pains, not to mention bumps and bruises from having to learn how to navigate a much larger body than he was used to. Thankfully, Barclay was loaning Duck some of his clothes so Duck wouldn’t have to be traipsing around naked day in and day out. That especially came in handy when Aubrey and Ned knocked on his door.

“H-Hey, Duck Fuck,” Aubrey teased hesitantly through the door, “it’s, uh, it’s us. We just finished up kicking that bom-bom’s ass and we… we wanted to check in on you.”

“I’m here, too, Ranger Rick. If you’d rather be left alone, we’ll respect that, but if you wouldn’t mind the company, could we come in?” Ned sounded more sincere than he had in all the years he and Duck had known each other.

Duck had to make a decision, and fast. While he still looked mostly human, he was still different. On the other hand, who knew him better than the two idiots on the other side of that door?

“Uh, c-coming!” Duck noticed how his voice had become a hair deeper as he tossed some clothes into drawers and slowed his breathing.

Aubrey and Ned had already fixed their eyes on where they expected Duck’s head to be when he opened the door, instead staring straight into his collarbone.

“Holy mother of-”

“Shut the fuck up, Ned.” Aubrey threw herself around Duck’s torso, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

“That might be a bit of an overstatement, Torch Girl.” Aubrey sniffed into Duck’s (technically Barclay’s) shirt at the mention of his pet name for her.

“Can we… join you inside your suite, Duck?” Duck separated himself from Aubrey and let them inside his room with a gentle “yeah”.

“I gotta say, looking up at you is gonna take some getting used to!” Ned didn’t laugh at his own joke.

“How you holding up, Ducky?” Aubrey rubbed his arm as she looked up at him.

“Not great. Gonna be honest, I’ve been in a lotta pain. Shit like this doesn’t happen without a little tuggin’ on the ol’ bones.” Duck looked down at himself and sighed. “This gonna take a lotta gettin’ used to, and I ain’t even halfway there yet. Barclay’s got me goin’ on six meals of almost all meat a day, and it’s like the volume on the world has been turned up to 12, not to mention how much everything smells. I… I gotta admit I’m scared.”

“Us too, big guy.” Ned looked up at him with surprising earnest. “And I gotta tell ya, getting back at that bom-bom for what it did to you gave me no small amount of satisfaction.”

Suddenly Duck remembered the whole reason why this was happening to him, the reason why he had met these two people in the first place. “Yeah, what- what was that?”

“It was some sort of replica crystal, like the one in Sylvain,” Duck noticed Aubrey cover up a bandage around her arm with her hand, “except this one created these… corrupt Sylphs. There was a vampire like Dani, who tried to bite people, ghosts like Moira possessing people, and… well, you know the other one.”

“Yeah, I sure do.”

“Do you… do you think you’re gonna be okay?” Aubrey placed her hand on Duck’s.

“That’s the million dollar question, ain’t it?” 

The three of them were silent for a moment. Duck watched as Aubrey looked him up and down over and over again and Ned avoided looking at him at all, each of them clearly ashamed of the situation for their own reasons.

“You- you guys know I’m still me, right?” Duck’s words cut through the tension in the air like a hot knife. “Like, I’m still the five-and-a-half foot botanist y’all know inside here, even if I got a few more inches to spare now.”

“Duck, of _course_ we know that!” Aubrey grabbed his arm and looked up at him. “I- I know I’m one to talk, but… this is just a lot to get used to. Y’know, pot and kettle and all that. But of course we know you’re still you. We’re here for you through all this, no matter what.” God, what an Aubrey thing to say.

Ned gingerly reached out his hand and placed it up on Duck’s shoulder. “I… you’re probably the best friend I got, Duck. I’m not gonna let somethin’ as simple as a fuckin’ wolfman transformation get in the way of that.” Duck patted Ned on the shoulder with a tear in his eye before being pulled into a tight bear hug from below, with Aubrey laying herself around the two, barely being able to reach her arms around them.

The three of them stayed in Duck’s room for two more hours, chatting as casually as they could, trying desperately to make Duck feel normal, before Ned had to close up the Cryptonomica and Aubrey had to meet Dani for a date, leaving Duck alone once more. The solitude didn’t last, however, as about an hour after Ned and Aubrey departed, Duck heard another knock on his door.

He took a moment to make himself presentable before opening the door to a pair of reflective red sunglasses staring straight up into his face. “Hmm, you’re actually closer to six-foot-five,” Indrid said, matter-of-factly.

“Do you ever get tired of doing that?”

“No.” Indrid made his way past Duck into Room 106, and made himself comfortable on the chair across from the bed. “We both know how you’re doing, so I won’t bother to ask. I’m… I’m sorry. About all this.” Indrid aimed his glasses at the floor.

“Yeah, well, spilled milk and all that.”

“You don’t have to minimize your experience for the sake of my comfort.” Wow, that was probably the nicest thing Indrid had ever said to him.

“Um, okay,” Duck stepped away from the door and sat on the foot of the bed, “what can I do you for?”

“I’m in the process of making you a disguise, just like the rest of us Sylphs have. I came by to see if you had a specific accessory or adornment you’d like me to enchant to hold it.”

“Yeah, I- I guess I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Um, hold on,” Duck reached beneath the collar of Barclay’s flannel shirt and unhooked a small chain necklace from around his neck, usually hidden conveniently beneath his clothes. A single charm hung from the chain: a small cartoon duck foot. “This, um… my sister gave this to me when we were kids. Never leave the house without it.” Duck dropped the necklace into Indrid’s open palm, feeling naked without it tucked underneath his collar.

“Thank you, Duck. I’ll… I’ll get you back to looking like you again as fast as I can.” Indrid got up from his chair and hesitated in the doorway as he made his exit, looking over Duck once more. “The height suits you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> people calling duck nicknames>>>>>>>>>>


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update, we had to put my dog down a few days ago, and school's already kicking my ass the first week of the semester, so i haven't had much time.

Duck woke up the next morning with much more hair than he had fallen asleep with. Almost his entire body was covered with a layer of coarse brown hair, save for the palms of his hands and face (disregarding the preexisting beard). At first he didn’t even notice the new layer of fur covering his surface area. In fact, it wasn’t until he undressed for a shower that he yelped in surprise at the sudden difference in his appearance.

Just his luck, Barclay happened to be dropping off his first meal of the day when Duck screamed, throwing the door open and running into the bathroom to see a half-naked Duck covered in fur.

“Shit, Duck!” Barclay stepped back in surprise. “You okay?”

Duck struggled to catch his breath. “No, I- I’m sorry, this is- this is new. When I went to sleep, I was less… less…”

“Yeah, I get’cha.” Barclay approached Duck with a questioning look, until Duck nodded and allowed him to place a hand on his furry shoulder. “Here, I have a feeling about what might help.” Barclay slid the leather band off his wrist, shifting into the eight-foot-tall, furry beast that was Bigfoot. “How’s this?”

“It, uh, it’s nice being shorter than someone again.” Duck gulped in awe at the sasquatch before him for about the thousandth time.

“Let’s sit down and you can eat your breakfast.”

Duck could hardly contain himself from devouring the plate full of bacon, steak, and ham before he even sat on his bed, Barclay staying standing by the entrance to the bathroom.

“How’re you holdin’ up?” Barclay leaned against the door frame and crossed his furry arms.

“Jesus, everyone keeps askin’ me that all the time. I wish I could just make a sign that says ‘Considering the situation I feel like I’m fine, but outside of the circumstances I’m a complete fuckin’ wreck.’” Duck shoveled the food into his mouth as fast as he could chew it.

“You know, it might be helpful to, like, socialize a little, get more used to being… how you are... around people.”

“I… I know you’re right, but that’s kind of a big step, I feel like.”

“Duck, that lobby out there is filled with a ghost, a vampire, a selkie, a fire wizard, and two other werewolves. Those are your people out there. If anyone’s gonna be accepting of this, it’ll be them.”

“I- fuck, fine. Just lemme take a shower first.” Though Duck was filled with dread at the thought of casually walking into the Amnesty Lodge lobby as a six-and-a-half-foot furball, he knew he just needed to rip the Band-Aid off, fast and clean.

“Yeah, uh, good luck with that. Hope you haven’t used too much shampoo yet. Y’know, from one hairy guy to another.” Barclay took Duck’s plate, slipped his bracelet back on, and left the room as a human, leaving Duck to prepare himself for his arrival.

After taking about two hours to dry off after his shower, Duck squeezed himself into a pair of Barclay’s jeans and a massive knit sweater that probably hadn’t been looked at since 1985. He stared into the mirror for a moment after getting dressed, wondering if it was worth the effort to try and do something with his hair. Well, the hair on top of his head; he didn’t want to think about the rest of the hair at the moment.

Duck glared at the door knob for what felt like years before finally working up the courage to lay one of his massive, hairy hands on it and open the door. Each step down the corridor towards the lobby felt like his feet weighed two tons, and he could feel every new hair on his body stand on end in anticipation for all his friends to run away in horror.

At first no one even noticed him enter. Moira was learning a new Chopin piece on the piano, Jake and Aubrey were playing a video game by the fire, and Mama and Dani were leaned over a chess board, casually bantering as they each contemplated their next move.

It was Aubrey who first looked up at him from Jake’s video game console and yelled (much louder than Duck would have liked) “ _Holy shit!_ ”

All the heads in the room snapped over to stare directly at him. Moira stopped tapping the ivory piano keys, the characters in Jake’s game stopped shouting their catchphrases, even the fire in the hearth seemed to stop crackling.

“H-” Duck loudly cleared his throat, “Hey, y’all.”

The room stayed silent for a few moments later, and, instead of sweating amidst the pressure, Duck was terrified by his urge to pant like a Golden Retriever.

Mama finally broke the silence with a smile, “Good to see you out ‘n’ about, Cowboy.” She moved her white knight piece over to Dani’s black queen, “Check.”

Dani shook her head with a laugh, “Fuck you.” With that, everyone cautiously resumed their previous activities, trying to hide the fact that all of them were still staring at Duck over their shoulders. Duck gracelessly made his way to the small table on which sat some coffee dispensers and paper cups and began to pour himself the first cup of joe he’d had in almost a week.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Duck looked over his shoulder to see a short, thin man in baggy pajamas standing behind him. “Doesn’t sit too well with us. Tea would probably be your best bet if you need a pick-me-up.” Duck wordlessly stared at the man in front of him as he set the paper cup back down on the table. “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself, have I?” he extended a hand for Duck to shake, “I’m Michael, but you can call me Mickey. I’m a werewolf.”

Duck almost choked up as he shook Mickey’s hand, having so far been unable to say that phrase himself. “H- Hi, I’m… I’m Duck. You already knew that probably, huh? Sorry, I… sorry.”

“You’re good buddy. You’re, uh, you’re under a lot of stress right now, I bet.”

“Understatement of the year, my friend.” A tall figure approached the two of them from the stairs leading to the second floor of the Lodge, wearing overalls and a bandana tied around their bald head. “Damn, you guys having a party without me?” They too put out a hand for Duck to shake, “I’m Sawyer, lycanthrope.”

“Nice to meet y’all. Shame I didn’t know y’all before this all happened.”

Sawyer shrugged. “Eh, we like to keep to ourselves mostly. Mickey and I left Sylvain to find safety, we’re not really about the whole monster-fighting, world-saving shebang.”

“You know, I gotta say,” Mickey interjected, “I wasn’t quite expecting you to be that color. Most of us are more gray, but you, my friend, are a most vibrant brown. Pretty rare for us, at least, where we came from back home.”

“I gotta admit I know literally nothing about any of this.” Duck shoved his hands into the pockets of Barclay’s jeans awkwardly. “If it’s not weird or, I dunno, disrespectful or anythin’ for me to ask, how much more do you… do you think I have to go?”

“Oof, big question, my friend. Do you mind?” Duck shook his head as Sawyer brought a hand up to the top of his head, allowing them to feel through his hair as they contemplated his question. “Your fur’s pretty thick…” Something tickled just behind Duck’s temples as Sawyer ran their hand across his head, “Oh damn, looks like your starting to get ears.”

“What?” Duck stepped back abruptly, bumping into the table holding the coffee dispensers. At the mention of ears on top of his head, he could swear he felt something twitch in the middle of his hair. “Whaddaya mean, ears?”

“What the fuck do you think they mean?” Mickey piped up. “Haven’t you seen us before?”

Duck blushed in embarrassment. “Fuck, yeah… I guess I have, huh? Sorry. I just… the punches keep comin’. No offense.”

“None taken, Fido.” Though Sawyer was heard to read, Duck had a feeling they were telling a white lie with their last comment.

“I’m sorry, I think- I just gotta head back to my room, I got- I got some… work I have to do. See ya’.” He looked away from Mickey and Sawyer to see that, once again, everyone in the lobby was pretending not to stare at him. Something in him burned, and he needed to let everyone else know. “Y’all can stop looking at me like that. I already know I’m a fuckin’ freakshow.”

Duck began to make his way back to his room when Barclay stepped out of the kitchen with a smile on his face. “Hey, Du-” Duck pushed past him in silence as he marched towards Room 106.


	4. four

The next few days were spent in excruciating pain. Duck’s face was completely destroying and rebuilding itself before his eyes. The ears he had had his whole life shrank and flattened themselves against his head as his new, pointed ears grew out of the top of his skull, covered entirely in coarse brown fur. The fur also overtook what remained of his face, leaving not a single square inch of bare skin on his body. Even his palms and the soles of his feet thickened into a rough, black skin akin to a dog’s paw. From his spine grew a long, furry tail just like a wolf’s. Worst of all was his face. Over the course of three days, his face elongated and morphed into something completely canine. His nose grew and thickened until it resembled the same texture as his hands. His entire face stretched out to a point, dragging his mouth along with it. His teeth changed shape and position, rendering him unable to eat for the rest of his transformation due to the pain. His crew cut was now completely indistinguishable from the rest of his fur. Even his eyes became darker and more beady. For the entire duration of his metamorphosis he avoided mirrors, knowing that his entire head had been completely mutated into that of a wolf, and his body was no longer human in any capacity. In moments of weakness, Duck would let out whimpers and whines instead of crying, though tears still streamed through his fur.

On the morning of the fourth day, Duck heard a knock on the door (now much louder than before thanks to his incredibly sensitive ears).

“Duck, it’s Indrid. I came by to-” Duck lunged across the room and flung open the door before Indrid could finish his sentence, anxious to receive his disguise after two weeks of torture.

“Indrid!” Duck’s voice was significantly lower than it had been before this whole ordeal.

“H- Hello, Duck.” For the first time, Indrid looked surprised. “Obviously, I knew what you’d look like when you opened the door, but it’s… different seeing it in real life."

“You don’t have to fucking tell me.” Duck closed the door as Indrid walked into the room, now in complete disarray (not that Indrid was one to talk). “You can take a second to take it in. I’d probably have to, too.” He dropped himself down onto the bed as Inrid sat down on the chair across from him.

“Yes, I must say, it’s quite magnificent.” Duck’s ears twitched involuntarily at the compliment.

“It’s what?”

“Well, nothing like this has ever happened before. You’re quite the unique case, Duck. I mean, even down to your coloring, I’ve never seen a fully brown werewolf. I’d imagine this is quite jarring.”

“It’s fuckin’ painful is what it is.”

“Yes, I’d suppose so. Do you mind if I… touch?”

Duck sat up with a sigh. “I guess not. I’d probably do the same.”

Indrid sat next to him on the bed and gently stroked the fur on Duck’s cheek, sending a strange shiver down his spine. Indrid’s hand continued down his neck, where the short fur on his face met the almost mane on his neck and chest.

“I have to say, this is… remarkable.” Duck gulped down the static that was buzzing around his chest as Indrid continued to brush his hand through his fur. He had to get out of this situation, and fast.

“Listen, I- I don’t want to sound unappreciative of your company but let’s get down to fuckin’ business. Do you have my necklace?”

Indrid dropped his hand. “That’s what I came here to talk to you about.”

Duck sat up. “I don’t like how you said that.”

“It’s proving more difficult than I thought to match your disguise to how you looked before. I’m going to need more time.”

“Well then why the fuck did you come here?” Duck knew his anger was irrational, but he couldn’t help it.

“I thought I should keep you updated on the process.”

“Fat load of fuckin’ good that does me!” Indrid stood up and made his way towards the door, and Duck stood up too, far taller than Indrid.

“Duck, I’m sorry, but I’m working as fast as I can.”

“ _Well fucking work faster!_ ” Duck truly didn’t mean to shout. He didn’t mean to make Indrid step back in fear, but he could hear it, too. He could hear the roaring growl that erupted from him as he shouted. The minute the words left his mouth, he stepped back, and could feel his ears flatten against his head. “I… I’m sorry.” Duck started to bring his hands up to cover his mouth before he realized it wouldn’t be quite the same with the new shape of his face. Instead, he settled on covering his rapidly watering eyes as he sat back down on the bed.

“Duck, it- it’s fine, really.”

“No, it’s not! It’s not fuckin’ fine! I go through all of this, the height, the fur, the fuckin’ tail, all of it, and I don’t even get to keep my voice?” Indrid sat down next to him, and Duck flinched as he felt a cold, thin arm wrap around him.

A voice gentler than Duck had ever heard come from Indrid whispered, “It’s okay. I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t have to be sorry. You’re not a fuckin’ monster.”

Indrid pulled back from Duck and stared blankly at him for a moment, before wordlessly taking off his glasses. In an instant, Indrid was no longer standing before him, but the one and only Mothman. Duck had never gotten a good look at him before. He’d never gotten to appreciate in full detail the gleaming red eyes, the two pairs of slender arms, the massive wings, or the feathered antennae. Indrid’s hooked mandibles twitched and clicked as he plainly said, “Yes I am.”

Duck squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” His voice cracked as he began to whimper. Suddenly two hands were on his shoulders, and two were cupping his face. He opened his eyes to see Indrid’s real face directly in front of his.

“You don’t have to be. Yes, I’m a monster by this world’s standards- hell I’m a monster even by Sylvain’s standards- but that doesn’t mean I know what you’re going through. No one does. That might seem isolating, but in reality it just means that no one has the right to tell you you’re being irrational. You’re not. You’re being human.”

“Fuck.” Duck threw his arms around Indrid and buried his face in the mane around Indrid’s neck as he began to sob as best he could, the normal sounds of human crying now replaced with pathetic whines. _Human_. How could he be human at all anymore? Look at him, he was a fucking beast.

One of Indrid’s hands began to comb through the long fur at the nape of Duck’s neck. Indrid gently pulled away, leaving all four hands somewhere on Duck’s body. “Most of the Lodge is watching Jake do his… mountain surfing or whatever the fuck it is,” Duck chuckled lightly, “but I told Aubrey and Ned to stay behind.” Indrid put his glasses back on and turned back into the scrawny man he was normally. “We’ll all be out there when you’re ready.”

Something pulled at Duck’s chest when he watched Indrid close the door behind him, leaving Duck alone in his room, but he disregarded it as nervousness about showing his friends the new him. He wondered if he should shower, but he decided that drying off would take too long, and he didn’t know if he’d smell like wet dog afterwards. The only clean clothes large enough for him were a pair of Barclay’s jeans, the sweatpants he was currently wearing, and a massive red flannel. Deciding not to lean too far into stereotypes, he settled to wear the jeans topless like the cover of some shitty erotica novella from the nineties. As he walked down the hall, the only sounds he heard were the crackle of a fire and Ned trying- and failing- to lighten the mood with werewolf jokes. Duck stepped into the lobby to see everyone sitting stiffly on the leather sofa.

“Did you hear about the comedian at the werewolf party?”

“Ned, shut the fuck up.” Aubrey looked up at Duck, crying already, as Ned turned over his shoulder to look at his friend. Ned gasped and covered his mouth.

“Hey, guys.”

“Duck…” For probably the first time in his life, Ned had nothing to say.

Aubrey slowly stood up and stared at Duck from across the lobby. “Are y- I- Duck…”

“I know, Aubrey.” As Duck took a step towards the sofa where the three of them sat, Aubrey instinctively stepped back.

“Aubrey, it’s fine.” Indrid stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Shit, I- I’m sorry, Duck,” she walked towards him, Ned trailing behind her, and placed a cautious hand on his arm.

“It’s okay. I know it’s a lot. Believe me, I know.”

“Oh, Duck,” Aubrey’s face wrinkled as she started to sob, shoving her face into his chest, wetting the fur. Duck waited for a moment before wrapping his arms around her. He rested his long chin on top of her head and looked down at Ned, who was shedding a few tears of his own. 

“Duck, I-” Ned swallowed and Aubrey stepped back to hear what he had to say, “I’m real sorry this all had to happen to you.”

“It’s not your fault. It could’a just as easily been either of you.”

“On the bright side,” Aubrey started to giggle as she wiped away her tears, “you’re really fucking soft.”

Duck laughed for the first time in two weeks. “No the fuck I am not! I feel like if someone straightened pubes, you kiss-ass!”

“Like you would know, with your fucking bear paws!” Aubrey shot back, laughing. “You think I couldn’t feel your fucking football-texure-ass hands on my back?”

“Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty.” Ned lay a hand on either of the two’s shoulders. “Now let’s sit down, my back already hurts from having to stare up at Duck, and it hasn’t even been two minutes yet.”

“Oh, _your_ back hurts?” Duck squeezed himself into a leather armchair as the other three found their previous spots on the sofa. “Last time I checked, you didn’t grow eleven inches in two days and then _sprout a fucking tail._ ”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Aubrey leaned forward, “you have a _tail_ , too?”

Duck laughed with a sigh, “Yeah, I had to tuck it into these fuckin' jeans. Why don’t they make more pants with tail-holes?”

“They’re called Long Johns, my friend.” Ned replied. Duck stood up and started to unzip his jeans so he could pull out his tail.

“Woah, Duck! At least take us out for dinner before you show us your wolf dick!” Aubrey held up her hands and looked away.

“Calm the fuck down, I’m not gonna fuckin’ molest you. You said you wanted to see the tail, so you’re gonna see the tail.” Duck lowered the jeans just enough to pull his tail out from under the waistband before zipping them back up. He flirtatiously turned his tail towards Ned and Aubrey and gave Ned a joking lapdance, ‘accidentally’ hitting him in the face a few times.

“Jesus, Channing Tatum, you don’t have to go all fuckin’ Magic Mike on us. Keep acting like this and we’ll have to get you neutered.” The three of them erupted into laughter as Duck sat down. Indrid, having been silent for almost the entire conversation thus far, leaned forward as they settled back down into silence.

“If you’ll excuse me, I should probably get back to work on your disguise.” As soon as Indrid stood up, Duck followed suit.

“No, you don’t have to!” He swallowed nervously. “I mean, we’re all having a pretty good time, and, y’know, I might as well get used to… people seeing me like this.”

Indrid hesitated for a moment. “Thank you for the invitation, but I’d prefer to just keep working. I’ll check in on you again tomorrow.” Duck sank back into his chair as Indrid exited the Lodge.

“What the fuck was that?” Aubrey turned toward Duck with an eyebrow raised.

“What do you mean ‘what was that?’” Duck noticed Ned was staring at him now, too.

“Okay, come on, you know.”

“I’m tellin’ you I don’t.”

“Suit yourself, don’t say I didn’t see this coming, though.” Duck rolled his eyes and noticed Ned looking at him weird again. Duck cleared his throat and sat up.

“So once Indrid gets my disguise all ready, I’ll probably have to get some new clothes for when I’m… normal? If either of y’all wanna tag along for that.”

“Right, yeah, sure.” Aubrey could tell Duck was distracting from the dawning discomfort around his appearance, and tried her best to follow along, crashing and burning immediately. “It’s weird that… this is normal Duck now. Like, this is you.”

“Yeah, I don’t… I don’t think I’ve quite come to terms with that yet.”

“I’m guessing it’s probably gonna take a while.” Ned piped up.

“Yeah,” Duck needed to lighten the mood. “You know what’s actually been the hardest? Learnin’ how to fuckin’ talk again?” Ned laughed, “What?” “I got a whole new goddamn mouth! Wolves aren’t fuckin’ designed for speech and neither is my face! I probably spent ten hours just trying to teach myself how to make sounds again. And I still have to focus!” His plan didn’t quite work. He hadn’t even managed to uplift himself, the three of them falling back into silence almost immediately after he stopped talking.

Aubrey took a deep breath and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Duck, I know you’ve been asked this a lot in the last couple weeks, but I want you to answer honestly. Are you okay?”

Duck thought for a moment. “Y’know, to be frank, I don’t know. Probably not. I mean, I guess I’ve never been normal, per se, but at least I’ve _looked_ like I was. I mean I used to just be your average short, fat dude. Now, if you asked me to describe myself, I’d have to describe a whole new person. Like, I’d have to say, ‘Well, I’m six-and-a-half feet tall with a wolf head and I’m covered head-to-literal-tail with brown fur.’ And that still feels like it isn’t true. But it is. Like, I have to realize that from now on, if I ever look like I did before, that’s not me anymore. This is. I… fuck, I haven’t even been able to say this yet. I’m a- I’m a werewolf.” Duck let his guard down with that last sentence, dropping his head and letting himself whine as tears carved their way through his fur. To his surprise, it was Ned who first laid a hand on his shoulder and knelt beside him, pulling him into a hug. Duck’s arms made their way around Ned’s abdomen and clutched his shirt, careful not to rip the fabric with his claws. They stayed like that for a moment, both shedding mutual tears.

Duck sniffed and pulled away as he wiped at his tears with his massive hands. “I just… I just wanna be fuckin’ normal again.” Ned looked up into his eyes, “I don’t think normal exists in our world anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this whole fic a metaphor for transness? the world will never know...
> 
> (also, the answer to ned's joke is: he had them HOWLING with laughter!"


End file.
